5 1 fic about the new Sherlock Holmes movement, of people leaving graffiti and posters etc. around the place *i have included some links*. 5 times friends of Sherlock found one of the messages, and one time...

John found the first one; fresh yellow paint covering the entire length of the wall, dripping slowly towards the floor. It hurt to see the name scrawled there, so plainly. But there was a satisfaction as well- someone believed him, agreed with him, he wasn't alone in knowing the truth.

I BELIEVE IN SHERLOCK HOLMES

If Sherlock was here, John thought sadly, he'd have groaned about being a 'celebrity' again. As it was, John just smiled and kept walking. His smile stayed faintly on his lips all day.

2.

Mrs Hudson sighed when she saw the post-it notes stuck to the front door. Another message from John, probably working late again; avoiding Baker Street. She sighed, putting the shopping on the floor and pulling the yellow notes from under the knocker.

SHERLOCK HOLMES WAS NOT A FRAUD.

She smiled, and put them back. There was no harm in it, they weren't hurting anyone, anyway.

3.

The massive poster of Richard Brook was not quite what Lestrade had been expecting to see when he made it into work, coffee in hand. There was something unnerving about those eyes, he decided unconsciously. Then he caught sight of the message written underneath.

MORIARTY WAS REAL. RICHARD BROOK WAS NOT.

He spun around to see everyone in the office staring at him. "Who did this?" He asked. No one answered.

He left it there anyway.

4.

Mike Stamford was late for work, again, when the stitch in his side prevented him from being able to walk another step. He bent to sit on the familiar bench in the park before a voice stopped him from actually sitting down.

"Woah there! Wet paint!"

He pulled himself back up again, groaning and turning to look at the person who'd helped him. There was no one there; but on the bench was a fresh tag, still faintly shining in bright yellow letters.

WE BELIEVE JOHN WATSON

5.

Mycroft stared at the car incredulously. These cars were unmarked, perfect for secrecy, kept in a special bunker where they were locked every night and only used when he needed to travel around London anonymously. The new paint job would make this very difficult.

Molly stared at the wall of Bart's in front of her with barely concealed emotion. So many people… it made her skin tingle with phantom Goosebumps. She snapped a quick photograph on her battered phone, before heading in to work - smiling so broadly the receptionist inquired as to her wellbeing.

Later, Sherlock stared at the photograph incredulously.

"This was this morning?"

"Yeah." Molly said, although she recognised a rhetorical question when she was asked one.

Sherlock smiled.

It would seem people hadn't completely abandoned him.

This was a bit rushed, I'm not going to pretend it wasn't. Still, I'd appreciate any feedback - anyone actually been participating in this? :D